Scars Become Home
by khaleesimaka
Summary: They were used to scars from battle, the little white marks that littered their partners body, but they each bring heartbreak and sorrow. To Soul and Maka scars have become an evil reminder of the dangers that arise from their line of work, but somehow they become home. Set in canonverse. Giveaway fic.


**A/N: 2nd place giveaway for therandomwolf on Tumblr who had asked for SoMa fluff with cuddles and anything else. I hope you like it!**

Maka panted as the kishin attempted to regain its footing after his attack had missed her. The holes in its back oozed with more of the slimy mucus substance, and the air in the alleyway smelled like rotten eggs. Her heart banged against her chest while her blood roared in her ears. How long had they been fighting this monster? Thirty minutes? Three hours? She honestly had no idea, but her body felt worn, every muscle within her screaming to give up, but she refused to do so.

This was her job, and she needed to protect the citizens.

"Maka," came Soul's dissonant voice, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look it." Even through the metallic tinge in his voice she was still able to hear his worry, and it irked her. "We can always call for backup, you know. You don't have to do this by yourself it's too hard."

She wanted to laugh. Too hard? For her? As if!

"I don't need backup, Soul. I've tired it out with all my blocking so I'm not far from defeating it. Just gotta get close enough to slice it."

His scythe glowed for a second, and glancing at him, she saw his face appear against the black surface of his blade. Soul's brows were knitted together, lips pursed slightly, and a few wrinkles creased his forehead. Maka knew that look far too well. She had seen it countless times before in the close proximity of their apartment; the night his scar burned out of nowhere, when she stayed up too late fretting about Crona on the moon, and the day he had confessed his feelings for her.

He was scared and worried about their situation.

Maka's heartstrings tugged at the knowledge of her weapon's fears for her and her safety, and she almost ran in the opposite direction to escape. But she didn't. This was their job, and she wasn't about to let a kishin wreck more havoc on the city - kill more people - because she was frightened by a few scratches.

That wasn't who she was.

She was Maka fucking Albarn, meister to Soul the death scythe, and destroyer of kishins.

Her grip tightened around his shaft. "Don't worry, Soul. I got this." She added in a smile for reassurance, and when he nodded and disappeared, Maka knew she had alleviated his worry for the time being.

Turning back to the kishin, Maka watched as it looked over them, ugly snout in the air smelling for them as the stench from its back wafted toward her. Maka swallowed down the bile that rose up her throat and readied her body to fight. She braced her feet against the concrete, raised Soul's scythe over her head, and waited for the kishin to turn beady, dull black eyes onto her. Her blood roared with a fire she had become far too familiar with throughout the years, her muscles screaming for a whole different reason now.

They were going to win, she knew it.

The kishin caught the scent of her perfume and whipped its ugly head around to growl at her. Its lips pulled back to expose sharp teeth that had been used to ravage its unsuspecting prey, and for a second as it crawled toward her Maka was scared for her life. Stock images of her life flashed before her eyes, her childhood whirling by in a vibrant mix of colors, and for one second, Maka honestly thought she was going to die.

But she stood her ground firmly and didn't budge, not even when the kishin snorted little puffs of air only feet before her.

She was Maka fucking Albarn, and she didn't back down.

Yelling out a shrill battle cry, Maka charged toward the monster, slide along the ground sideways, and slashed the underside of its belly with the tip of the scythe. Green mucus sloshed onto the ground, bits of it splashing into her hair and the back of her coat, but she ignored it. Maka stood on her feet and whirled around to glare at the kishin as it roared out in pain before turning to her. It swiped a long claw out at her that Maka quickly deflected with the rib of Soul before flipping him upside down to slicing through its wrist.

Maka continued to slice and dice through the kishin, twirling around on her heel as she swiped Soul against its body. The crunch and snap of bone ricocheted against the alley walls while mucus stained the concrete floor. It was a mess once she finally cut through the kishin's belly, but they had done it. Her chest rose and fell as Soul shifted out of his scythe form in a bright red glow to materialize as human again. She watched as he reached out to cradle the kishin soul in his hand before turning toward her and giving her a thumbs up.

"You did it," he grinned. "Never doubted you for a second."

"Then what was all that crying about quitting and leaving the kishin to another meister/weapon duo?" she heaved out, still trying to catch her breath.

Soul whipped out his tongue, dropped the soul into his mouth, and swallowed it before shrugging. "You looked tired, and I'd rather take home a fit meister who can still walk rather than carry you."

"You've never complained about carrying me in the past."

"That's because you didn't weigh as much - OW!" Even with her muscles sore and her body aching, Maka had been able to perform a roundhouse kick to Soul's back. Granted, it wasn't as hard as she was able to in her full strength, but it still hurt nonetheless. "What the fuck, Maka?!"

"You shouldn't talk about a woman's weight like that!" she growled.

"That doesn't mean you have to kick the shit out of me like that!"

"It didn't hurt that bad, Soul! You've received worse from me!"

"If there's a bruise when we get home, you're gonna take care of it and be kinder to me!"

"We'll see!"

His facial expression calmed and the same worry lines from before came back as he saw something she couldn't. Maka watched as his hand rose, he wiped his thumb across her forehead, and pulled back to reveal blood. He sighed.

"Let's just get home and clean you up, okay? Save the arguing for later."

"Yeah, okay," she mumbled.

Maka followed him out of the alleyway, and they walked home in silence.

* * *

A sharp hiss sounded through her teeth as Soul gently dabbed her back with the wet cloth to clean up the scratches that were there. Apparently they had crisscrossed and were deep enough to scar her skin only a bit, and he had suspected she received them from her sliding on her back when the kishin tossed her. Probably also from being thrown against the brick wall too. Who knew for sure? Definitely not her, but scarring wasn't that foreign in their line of work if she were being honest.

Even Soul ended up with them sometimes.

Maka breathed a steady sigh, clutched the towel tighter to her bare chest, and listened to Soul dip the cloth back into the bucket of warm water. It calmly sloshed around, soft waves sloshing around as he twirled it around. She couldn't count how many times they had been in this exact situation before, how often one of them found themselves caring for the other after an intense battle like they had experienced earlier. It had been a long ten years since they partnered up, and they had both been through many battles together.

He dabbed at her back again, pausing when she flinched, but she bit down on her lip to stifle the agony that coursed through her body. With his other hand, Soul gently gripped her hip and squeezed lovingly before he continued cleaning her was comforting to sit on the linoleum floor of the bathroom with her partner and boyfriend caring for. Even when she was half naked, it didn't feel at all sexual, but there was a sense of intimacy in the air. From his touch on her side to the warmth of his breath on her back, she found it all romantic in a weird way.

"You okay?" he asked. His voice was low and quiet as if he were afraid that if he spoke louder he'd spoke her or the tranquility away.

"Yeah, I'm good. You?"

"Not the one who has cuts and scars and bruises all over his back," he snorted.

"Pretty sure you have at least one bruise on your back."

"I do, and it hurts like a motherfucker. Thanks for that, by the way."

"If you don't like it, then maybe you should learn to think before you speak especially when it comes to things about me. I can kick your ass, remember that."

He let out a dry laugh as he removed the cloth from her back and dipped back in the bucket. "Don't worry, I know you can. I've seen you fight kishins, suckerpunch Star right in the face, and beat the shit out of Crona when they were being a little bitch. I know how tough you are."

She smiled to herself at the memories and how observant her partner was; she had definitely picked the right person to be her weapon _and_ boyfriend.

"A man who knows what's good for him, every girl's dream," she said.

"A man who was stupid enough to comment on his girlfriend's weight." The water stilled, and the room grew quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Even their steady breathing seemed to stop before he said, "Sorry about that. It really wasn't cool of me."

Maka turned slightly to look at him, noting the downcast of his eyes as he stared at the bathtub. Keeping a hand on the towel over her chest, she rustled his fluffy white hair to liven his spirits if only a little bit before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"Don't worry about it too much," she said. "I know you didn't mean it."

The corner of his mouth twitched while red, adoring eyes trained on her. "Course I didn't. You know how much I love your body, anyways."

Heat crept up her neck, her eyes bulged a little, and she felt her face flush at the implication. It was true, but she hated how bluntly he had to put it. Maka lightly punched his shoulder before turning around and cursing the man under her breath while he chuckled behind her.

"Chill, Maka. I'm trying to cheer you up."

"I wasn't upset, though."

Soul didn't say anything else as he finished cleaning off her scars before dabbing her skin clean and wrapping bandages around her. His hands brushed against the underside of her breasts that she wasn't intentional, but it still caused a shiver to crawl up her spine. The feel of his warm lips against her cool back surprised her, and she released a small gasp at the sensation. He moved his mouth from between her shoulder blades to carefully kiss her neck and nestled his face against her, mumbling nonsense into her flesh. Maka wasn't able to decipher any of what he was saying - his voice quieter than it had ever been before when he did this - but she was able to feel it through their slight resonance.

There was fear and worry and hatred surging through his soul, directed to a source she wasn't entirely positive of. Based on his past, though, she was able to guess.

Squeezing the hand that rested over her ribcage, she attempted to reassure him that her injuries weren't his fault. That the danger she had been in was her fault, not his. If anything had happened to her, it would have been because she was a hardheaded idiot who refused to give up. But Soul was far too caring and loved her far too much to be reassured or put the blame on her, she knew that.

He had always blamed himself no matter what since the beginning.

"You okay?" It was her turn to ask the question now.

Soul hugged her tight one last time before standing up and dropping one of his shirts she had stolen long ago to sleep in over her head. "I'll be in my room."

The bathroom door shut behind him, and Maka was left alone.

* * *

Maka cautiously pushed Soul's bedroom door open, peeking in to see that his back was facing toward her. She entered the room, closed the door behind her, and made her way over to him, pulling back the covers to nestle in beside him. He wasn't asleep, though, which was evident when he rolled over to face her. Soul picked his arm up for her, and Maka didn't waste any time as she pressed their bodies together.

Warmth washed over her body where he touched her, his fingers found their way beneath her shirt and pressed against her bandaged back. She took in a deep breath and was greeted with the smell of the last remnants of his cologne. The dark, heavy scent felt more like home than she knew, and a familiar comfort calmed her aching muscles and stilled her beating heart. With him, Maka was safe. She trusted him above anyone else, and he had proven to her countless times before how different he was than her papa.

Soul was her home.

"You okay?" she asked once again, hoping to receive an answer this time.

"I am now," he breathed against her hair.

"Do you blame yourself for my injuries?" Maka moved her face from his chest slightly, and bright green eyes peeked out from behind blonde bangs as she stared up at him. "Because you know they weren't your fault, right? I'm the meister here, and I know the dangers I'm putting me - us - through when I do things like that. Whatever decisions I make are my own which means the consequences belong to me, not you. You know that right?"

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his gaze moved up toward the wall. It was several seconds before he looked back at her, a sad tinge behind his crimson eyes that caused her heart to lurch. Maka's arms tightened around him as she held him close, too afraid he'd leave her or say something she didn't want to hear. But looking at his intense stare, a little voice in her head told her she had nothing to worry about. Soul loved her - she knew that - and he would never say anything to hurt her.

"I know," he sighed, "but I still worry. You know that."

She did.

"But that doesn't mean you need to blame yourself for every little thing." Maka moved her hand from where it rested against his chest to stroke cradle his head and stroke his cheek with her thumb.

"I hate when you do that because you aren't to blame for anything. If something happens to me, it's my own fault. I don't know how many times I have to tell that before you get it through that thick head of yours. I love you, and I know you love me too, but that doesn't mean we have to blame ourselves when something happens to the other."

Maka said the last bit not only for him, but for her too. She was equally at fault when it came to self-blame because he had gotten hurt; when Crona had given him the scar across his chest, she had spent a good time blaming herself for it. Sometimes she still grew sorrowful when he walked around the apartment shirtless or when he scratched the scar. It had been an evil reminder of the dangers of their work - how close she had been to losing him - and she knew her own scars were a similar reminder for him.

Soul pressed his lips against her forehead and mumbled, "But it's so hard," against her skin.

She felt his mouth move as he spoke, the movement branded her flesh, and heat boiled up from her lower abdomen. "I know," she whispered. "It's hard for me too, but we both know that we have to at least try."

"Yeah." A small pause. "Yeah, I know."

His arm unwrapped from around her, and Soul flopped onto his back with a heavy sigh. "You would think after so many years of being partners we would get used to this. Or that it would get easier, but it hasn't. It's fucking hard. And now that we're actually in a relationship… It's just really fucking hard."

"Trust me, I know," she said. Maka moved from her spot to drape herself across his chest, her hand wound through his hair while his arms found themselves around her waist. "But we're both tough as rocks, and I think we can do it."

The sound of Death City seeped through their apartment, a car honked down the street while a man whistled out his window. Maka heard the faint sound of an owl hooting in the distance along with the meow of a cat. Death City was definitely not a place for everyone, but it had been the only place she knew growing up. She loved the little city ever since she was a child, and even after all the places she had traveled with Soul, she knew this was where she belonged. In her cozy little apartment with her boyfriend in the middle of the city she adored.

"Let's stop the self-blaming, but we can keep worrying about the other," Soul mumbled eventually.

Maka smiled. "We can do that too. Especially since I know you'll never stop fretting over my safety, Mr. Weapons Protect Their Meisters."

"Hey!" He lightly pinched her butt causing her to jump. "That's they teach us in our classes."

"They teach us that weapons are there to kill the kishins, not put their lives in danger."

"Whatever. Same thing."

"It isn't the same thing!" she laughed.

"Who the fuck cares!" Soul's grip around her waist tightened as he rolled them back over to their original position and nestled his head in the crook of her neck. "I'm tired. Just go to sleep, Maka. No more arguing or talking."

"Soul," she groaned.

"Can't hear you, I'm sleeping."

"You are such a big baby."

"But you still love me." She felt his grin on her skin and smiled herself.

"Only because you love me."

He kissed her neck, nipping her skin. "Fuck yeah I do."

"Now shut up and go to sleep, Soul."


End file.
